


Anything Other Than This

by Youletmeknow



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: A story about emotions, F/M, REALLY slow, RobStar Week, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2020-06-25 11:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youletmeknow/pseuds/Youletmeknow
Summary: It’s a story about enabling weaknesses, and how they’ll consume us. Starfire should have known better than to think she could simply rein in her emotions whenever it came to Robin.





	1. Chapter 1

...

...

It's the expression on Robin's face, when he enters the Common Room to see her and Speedy in their current positions, that embarrasses Starfire to no end.

She’s in a straddle. She swears she doesn’t remember the straddle. But minutes ago, when Speedy turned on a horror movie and lifted the remote high over his head in some flirtatious challenge, Starfire _had_ to get to it before the suspenseful music started playing. So here she is now: remote victoriously in hand and her knees on either side of Speedy's lap. Starfire is frozen in embarrassment, her mind racing for all the wild assumptions Robin may be reaching in his head.

"Yeah, it's exactly what it looks like, Wonder Boy." There's something in the tone of Speedy's remark that worries Starfire; she can't tell if it’s simply a joke or something meant to cut deeper.

Robin doesn't miss a beat. "It looks like Star's gonna waste three minutes of her life she won't get back."

Speedy roars in laughter before sucking in air dramatically. "That's pretty harsh, man. As if Starfire minds the rush. She's got a thousand other hearts to break before the night's over."

The comment grazes Kory unpleasantly, and if it bothers Robin, he's not letting it show. Instead, the mood of the room lightens and he's casually chatting it up with Speedy. Star slowly and sheepishly dismounts and faces herself back at the television.

They're talking about things far beyond the scope of her interests: expensive cars, sports, niches of the music scene she’s not really into. It’s a thing she never likes whenever Speedy or many of the honorary male titans come to stay at the Tower: the very predictable way they often use her as the punchline to a sexual joke (usually pointed at Robin) and then very promptly leaving her in the dust at their abrupt change of a conversation she can't follow. She wonders if they'll ever get passed the banality of objectifying her and then dismissing her altogether.

She's long gone from trying to listen in on their conversation, but Robin's laugh is of such distinction and warmth that it overwhelms her as she absently clicks away with the controller.

It's been a while, hearing his voice. Two weeks ago, Robin had sent in a request to Bumblebee and Aqualad for a temporary Titan transfer into Steel City in order to be closer to Gotham and Batman. In the exchange, Titans East sent over Speedy. And although Speedy brought in fun, the presence of Robin back is something else entirely. Even after all this time.

"Star."

The mere utterance of her name in his mouth whips Kory right out of her thoughts. She realizes Speedy is no longer in the common room. Instead, Robin is here, leaning over the couch to meet her face and he's giving her an expression full of confusion and concern. "You haven't said anything since I got back. You alright?"

"I am just the Tired today," Starfire gives her best smile and he gives a light one back. But he gently pulls the remote out of her hand and points it at the screen.

"I can see that. You're either trying to fix the TV with your mind, or this is a new show I'm not understanding.”

The static clicks off and an actual television program starts playing, and Starfire can't beat herself up enough at how nonfunctional she is when Robin is around. When he pushes himself away from the couch and towards the kitchen, the sinking feeling in her heart shows her she's far from getting over him.

"How was your trip home?" Starfire tries. There's the sound of the fridge door opening and the rummaging of plastic containers.

"Steel City was fun, actually. Gotham's how I left it, but whatever. As for home..."

He hops over the couch and takes his place next to her. Not too far, not too close, what she assumes is the perfect distance for just friends. It's as if Robin has it all worked out, this line that separates their friendship from something more. A line that Starfire can't balance on for the life of her. He passes her a water bottle he grabbed from the fridge. "I haven't considered it home for a while," he says lightly. "You know that."

They end up watching a whole 30 minute drama in what she's surprised to be complete comfort. Not an ounce of awkwardness that usually comes with ex territory. It's the oddest feeling; once upon a time an hour alone on the couch was spent so differently between the two of them. But that's all Starfire allows herself to think before reining all her thoughts back in with a quick pull.

At the end credits, Robin wishes her goodnight before offering her the remote and retreating to his room. The ease of which he enters and leaves her always, _always_ shocks her.

From the very beginning, Starfire invested her time with Robin with the hopes of being more than friends. And now, with the prospect of their relationship tried, tested, and completely over and done with, Starfire is a little lost, struggling to figure out what being _just friends_ means.

...

...

* * *

**First Look into Chapter 2:**

_"You know," he says, leaning back in his seat and nursing his drink, "I have to be honest. The food issue used to bother me when we were dating."_

_Starfire already feels the turmoil inside her churn and crash against the mental guard she had worked hard to put up._


	2. Chapter 2

...

... 

Raven gets it.

Starfire knows that even if Raven wasn't an empath, she would still get it. So when Raven knocks on Starfire's door during a slice of time so early in the morning she barely recognizes it, and simply says, "I'm having a session," before walking away, Starfire follows.

Raven understands. Felt Starfire’s emotions the moment Robin came back home from Steel City. Raven had been on standby for Starfire all along. Raven's love is quiet, but it is self-sustaining and fierce, and the gratitude cuts so deep into her bones that it makes Starfire ache.

The Common Room's vast windows facing the ocean is a delight so early in the morning. Raven levitates into her meditating position and Starfire sleepily, but happily, follows. "Start us off, Star."

A nod. "Azarath, Metrion..."

…

…

They're done before Speedy catches a morning plane back to Titans East. With the true leader of the team back, Robin hits the ground running, for Jump City immediately resumes its routine: amateur crimes ensue, small natural disasters occur, and mandatory pizza at The Slice is desperately needed by all five members to wind down.

The Slice welcomes Robin back home with free pizzas. It's such a perk he immediately calls in some friends around the Jump City area, and within 20 minutes, The Slice is packed with fifty people and the Titans end up renting out the whole restaurant for the night. Someone's genius enough to bring speakers to hook up and the place is suddenly kicking. The upstairs outside terrace offers an illuminated evening scene of the city, and with all her friends surrounding her, Starfire feels normal.

After she gets back from dancing, Robin finds his way to her table. He’s almost shouting over the music. "What is it?" He points to the pizza she’s ordered, one with an array of particularly special toppings. Starfire feels giddy, and with both of her hands on his shoulders she pushes him down into the seat next to her. "I will tell you, but you must try it!"

He gives her a mock expression of surrender and she laughs.

"So, I started with kimchi..."

"Okay, easy enough."

"... fermented bean paste..."

"Here we go."

Starfire finishes her list off with mango, garlic, and a caramel drizzle. Robin hesitates for only a second before taking a bite, and expressions mix around wildly on his face as he chews until it all ends in regret.

"Is it that bad?" Starfire inquires after witnessing a very painful swallow.

"So bad the aftertaste stresses me out, Star."

She laughs while she orders him a root beer, and he takes it gratefully, politely faking obliviousness when the young waitress winks at him. A change of song occurs: something acoustic, a few decibels lower, and the lights of the lanterns do too much justice on the contours of Robin’s face that Star can’t help but notice.

"You know," he says, leaning back in his seat and nursing his drink, "I have to be honest. The food issue used to bother me when we were dating."

Starfire already feels the turmoil inside her churn and crash against the mental guard she had worked hard to put up.

"How so, Friend Robin?" The friend part is a bit much.

"Well, I'd wanted to impress you with fancier foods, like when I booked us for that french restaurant one time. But I never felt like the digs cut it for you. Quantum physics I can get a hold of before I figure out Tamaranean taste buds," he laughs.

"I liked all the cuisines." Star assures him emphatically. She’s almost offended and she doesn’t know why.

"Well, where does Speedy take you out on dates?" He asks.

"We usually--" She starts, before realizing the loaded question.

"Speedy and I are not the Together. 

Robin challenges her with mild skepticism, but Starfire looks back with conviction. She wonders if she's blushing.

"My bad, Star. Pretty interesting, really thought he'd go for it.” Robin downs the rest of the root beer. “You're a catch." 

It's completely platonic. Not an ounce of flirtation hidden in the tone, and Starfire knows this because she's desperately searching and the absence leaves her with too many layers of disappointment.

…

...

When the party wraps up, some of their friends follow the team to the Tower to do "The Crashing" for the night, and Cyborg and Beast Boy run out for late-night donuts to appease their guests. But it's late, so Raven retreats to her room, and Robin offers to walk Starfire to hers. Their conversation stays light, but somewhere between the first step and the last step, Starfire decides to be honest, because honesty has always been her style and especially so with Robin. The door to her room slides open and it's as if he knows she has something to say, because he's looking at her with great concern.

"Robin, I..."

He catches her chin with his fingers and tilts her head up. He’s taller than her these days, something Starfire never fails to notice. It makes her feel something in her stomach that she shouldn't be feeling anymore. 

How consequential would it be to have what she’s feeling spoken out into the world for him to hear? There’s so much her heart wants to say. 

"I am relieved to have you safely back home. These two weeks were long without you," she says instead. Starfire doesn't have the guts to tell him the truth: that she worries she will still love him long after he has moved on from the relationship they once had, and the fear of being left behind crushes her at every moment.

Robin wishes her goodnight, and with her insides all shredded up, she enters her room wondering what in Xhal's name she is supposed to do next.

...

...

* * *

**First Look into Chapter 3:**

_The words she needs to say are sitting in her chest, waiting to be spoken. But when she tries, it only makes it so far before breaking apart in Starfire’s throat. And it's because she’s afraid the truth won’t actually set her free. It will just make her feel awkward and embarrassed and defenseless and red in the face and horrified and petrified and vulnerable. Where’s the freedom in that?_

RobStar Week Day 5: blush, and my contribution for it ~ 


	3. Chapter 3

...

...

Starfire is not in the best of moods when she wakes up.

The success of the Titans is thriving, and the team wants to give back the support with their recently designed mentoring program for at-risk kids with uncanny abilities.

"It's soooo weird," as Beast Boy puts it. "Like... we're kids. We don't even know how to separate our laundry or load the dishwasher properly. What are they supposed to be learning from us?"

"Control, integrity, perseverance." Raven walks into the kitchen and pulls an earl grey tea bag out from a drawer. "At least that's what they should be getting from the rest of us. What they're learning from you, Beast Boy, I have no clue. Good morning, by the way."

Starfire greets Raven cheerfully and flies to the stove to put on the kettle. Beast Boy pretends to contemplate. "Killer video game skills, maybe. How to look like a million bucks."

"I think you're more like the precautionary tale," Raven suggests. "You're here to be an example of what bad life choices can do to a person."

"Har har," Beast Boy surrenders darkly, but gives Raven a quick peck on the cheek before transforming into a fly and zipping away from Raven's swatting range. The corner of Raven's mouth twitches and Starfire is glad to have caught the rare sighting.

With the end of Starfire's relationship with Robin there came the beginning of Raven and Beast Boy's. And while Starfire holds the deepest love for these two, their miniscule public displays of affection leaves Starfire swinging between elation and envy.

Today it is elation, because she can't stop laughing when Beast Boy transforms back to himself and takes a dramatic bow in front of Starfire.

"A'ight. Time to whip up some breakfast for M'lady and M'Starfire. How does tofu eggs benedict sound?"

Raven finally takes a sip of her tea. "Sounds pretty terrifying, but you're going to make it for us anyway."

"That's right, babe. Hold up a minute." Beast Boy transforms into an eagle and is off.

Starfire pretends not to notice Raven's gaze peering over her teacup, but Raven doesn't let her get away with it.

"I'd be very interested if you'd wanted to speak about things."

"There is no need to have cheeks about it, Raven."

"'There is no need to be cheeky,' you mean," Raven corrects patiently. The bottom of the cup hits the table and Starfire knows it is futile to evade the situation.

"I feel I am failing Robin."

This earns Starfire an incredulous look from Raven.

"You see us, Raven. He is acting the way he used to before Tokyo, as if… as if we have always been just friends and nothing has happened between us. I think he hopes I can recover that fast as well. That we can go back to the same friendship. But I cannot. Not so quickly."

"You should tell him, then."

"I will disappoint him." Starfire looks at Raven with pain. "How has he gotten over our relationship so fast?"

There's something in Raven's eyes that Starfire can't comprehend. "Look," she says, "people deal with things differently. You happen to want to wear your heart on your sleeve," Raven catches the horror on Starfire's face and amends quickly. "Not what you're thinking. I mean it's healthy for you to heal by being open and honest with your feelings. And Robin thinks the opposite. He's...what did Beast Boy call him again?" Raven calls over Starfire's shoulder. "Beast Boy, what did you call Robin last night?"

In his hands, Beast Boy holds a carton of eggs and a pack of tofu retrieved from the basement refrigerator. "Emotionally constipated. Like, he's-so-backed-up-he's-absorbing-all-the-toxins type of emotional distress."

Raven throws him a sardonic look. "Thank you for articulating your observation so eloquently. But yes; it's stupid, and for some inconceivable reason it kind of works for him, but the consequences will catch up to him in the long run. And I don't want that happening to you. Be honest with Robin."

Starfire is nodding, but the idea of disappointing Robin is not ideal. By the time she decides to ignore Raven's advice, a plate of steaming mush is in front of her and Beast Boy is staring at the both of them with pride.

…

…

"Yep, come in."

The door slides open to the view of Robin hunched over a monitor, which is the only supplying light in the room. He's tapping away at buttons furiously, lost in the flow of paperwork. Robin gives a final click of the return key and swivels the chair to Starfire's direction, presenting a sleeping and prehensile silkie on his lap.

Starfire flies in and scoops Silkie up. "Apologies again, Robin."

Robin shrugs idly, not looking inconvenienced about anything. He's used to it by now, the determined affection from Silkie residual from a year long-relationship of Robin and Starfire sharing a bed. Starfire appreciates how every time her bumgorf sneaks out to find Robin's lap, the exchange to get him back is painless, and now awkward at all. She moves to go.

"Wait."

Starfire turns.

Robin swivels back to the monitor and opens up a saved tab for her to see. "The premiere of the _Agent Gold_ sequel is tonight and I scored two tickets from a movie guy I met on patrol. Come with me?"

Robin's invite comes under the knowledge that they share the same eagerness for this particular franchise, a hollywood collaboration of the action and romance genres that blew up the box office scene the year it came out. Robin enjoyed the suave british spy's array of gadgets and Starfire liked how the love interest was an engaging and well-developed character.

Robin's invite has nothing to do with residual feelings.

Starfire doesn't want to go with him. That's the truth.

The words she needs to say are sitting in her chest, waiting to be spoken. But when she tries, it only makes it so far before breaking apart in Starfire's throat. And it's because she's afraid that the truth won't actually set her free. It will just make her feel awkward and embarrassed and defenseless and red in the face and horrified and petrified and vulnerable. Where's the freedom in that?

Her answer is no. But Starfire knows there's even a proper way to say the word. It has to be timed right, and not too dismissively, but not too passionately either. Otherwise it comes across as rude and Starfire's barely hanging on with proper "friendship" decorum as it is.

It's too tiring to think about. So she just says yes.

The movie date is a disaster. She can't focus on the quippy dialogue and expensive explosions because she's busy timing the proper moment to reach into the popcorn bucket. It's awkward when their hands brush against each other and she's not interested in enabling the emotions that come after, because they tend to linger for far longer than they're welcome. By the time they get out of the theater, it's night, and Starfire flies Robin to the roof of the Tower, pretending she's listening to his thoughtful analysis over the ending.

"—and I can see what they're trying to do by introducing us to the next movie's villain in this movie, but think about it, Star. It kinda takes us out of the experience when—"

Starfire barely manages to even out her voice when she wishes him goodnight on the Tower's rooftops, but she soon finds herself in the garage, where Cyborg is on his back under his beloved T-mobile. He must have heard her footsteps, because he slides out from under it, presenting to her a grin on his oil-smeared face. "Hey, little lady. How was the movie?"

"Cyborg, do you require the help in any capacity?"

Starfire means for it to sound much more cheerful than that, but something catches in her throat, and Cyborg doesn't miss it.

"Whoa, hold up. What's going on?"

Cyborg props himself up and brings a hand up to grab her by the arm and pull her nearer, but Starfire backs away, irritated. "I am simply asking if you need assistance, Cyborg."

She knows there's nothing for her to do here. Cyborg knows that she knows. But he looks around, thinking. "I could use some help organizing the nuts and bolts container…"

So Starfire stays with Cyborg for the rest of the night, listening to the sounds of drilling and hammering and welding as she sorts out different sizes of bolts, refusing to answer Cyborg's carefully deployed questions.

These emotions are a bothersome thing indeed. She feels like they can swallow her whole.

...

...

* * *

**First Look into Chapter 4:**

_There are days when Robin decides to take a break from all the responsibilities, to relieve the weight of the city off his shoulders—if even just for a day—and he becomes something else entirely, she thinks._

_Robin, when he is unleashed into the world and free from all his daily worries, can rip the breath away from all of them. Especially her._

_But maybe it's because he can be kind of a flirt too._


	4. Chapter 4

...

...

She questions whether this is normal.

Perhaps it is just another one of those coming of age transformations her royal caretakers had failed to mention to her before (granted, they probably would have said something by now had she not been kidnapped and enslaved by the Citadel). Starfire feels like she’s back on some remote planet, trapped inside a Tamaranean Chrysalis Cocoon, unformed like celestial gelatin waiting to metamorphosize into something stronger and better. Only it’s a dirty trick and stronger and better never comes for her and instead she’s just in a state of transition that will last forever. Is it even a transition if it’s forever? She hardly knows. All Starfire knows is she is stuck in the in-between of... of something. Something malevolent and destructive. And the suspense is eating her alive. 

…

…

She sits there, investing an exorbitant amount of energy arranging her face into something considered thoughtful and engaged, as she nods and leans back into the spinning leather office chair with the other Titans. The Conference Hall is a room that had been integrated into the floor plan by a very insistent Justice League, who completely overlooked the fact that they were dealing with teenagers “like, _totally_ chill” with conducting strategy planning and debriefings over pizza and video games on the couch of the Common Room. 

It is because of this oversight that the Conference Hall had very quickly devolved into a glorified _Storage Hall,_ also referred to as the _Cy, Please Find Another Place To Keep Your Gundam Pieces Other Than The Coffee Table Hall,_ as well as the _Beast Boy, Who Are These People?/Oh! Hey, Rae! This Is My Magic: The Gathering Club I Was Telling You About. Robin Said I Could Host This Week Hall,_ and the infamous _There You Are Friends! I Have Been Looking Everywhere For You To Try My New Batch Of Glorg, Now Twice As Pungent Hall._ Today is one of the rare occurrences in which the room is being put to its intended use, as Cyborg is forced to reimagine an entirely new security plan after an unfortunate weekend of ambitiously resourceful paparazzi and their seemingly new investments into the drone market. 

It is a good thing that Cyborg is a passionate person regarding this. He speaks lightyears a second and his hands fly across the schematics, speaking like a crazed artist over his latest symphony. And still, the timbre of his voice soon falls away, because Starfire can’t stop thinking about the last time she was in this room. She stares hard at the screen before her, trying to ignore the projection wall looming behind, demanding her to remember what it felt like when _he_ pressed her against it many months before. 

Starfire remembers she was surprised to find out Robin—despite his other vices—preferred things between them to be _gentle_ . She had thought in the beginning she’d be disappointed by this discovery (for it is not in her Tamaranean nature to be tame regarding _this_ ). But then Robin got his hands on her and convinced Star rather miraculously that gentleness carries every bit of passion as roughness and recklessness. Satiety is reached all the same as long as there is love involved. 

Starfire caves, and glances back at the projection wall.

 _Love._ She violently forces the feeling down into one of her nine stomachs and tunes back in to her friend’s zealous passion amidst tech word jargon. Robin, of course, asks the first question. Nothing less than acute focus. The objectives are clear on the horizon for him that he probably can’t relate to all the sentimental triggers Starfire falls for. Star lets herself imagine that _maybe,_ if he didn't have robotic control over his brain, he'd take a glance too.

But he does.

So he doesn't.

…

… 

There are days when Robin decides to take a break from all the responsibilities, to relieve the weight of the city off his shoulders—if even just for a day—and he becomes something else entirely, she thinks. 

Robin, when he is unleashed into the world and free from all his daily worries, can rip the breath away from all of them. Especially her.

But maybe it's because he can be kind of a flirt too.

And he’s outside right now, balancing on top of the T-Mobile, sloshing buckets of soapy water over it and rapping along with great alacrity and accuracy to whatever the stereo is playing. He looks down at Starfire and the grin on his face is the most dangerous thing she’s ever seen.

"What's up, gorgeous?"

Starfire doesn't recall herself flying. But she’s suddenly 5 feet above him, and Cyborg decides to seize the opportunity and put her to work. He throws the extended hose up.

"Make it rain, girl!" He hollers. And as Starfire complies, she wonders if she should be angry that Robin still has this much power over her.

…

…

Starfire hates this particular part of the breakup.

The part that relocates her to the hallway, the other side of Robin’s locked door. Whenever a convict escapes, whenever a victim can’t be saved, whenever the Titans fail to bring justice to their city, Robin takes more time than anyone else to recover.

Robin has demons entrenched so deep it disturbs everyone. But Star has no more girlfriendy authority to force his door open and help. To impose her comfort. To bear witness to times when Robin is actually vulnerable, and be the voice to remind him that there’s no logic in hurting himself for it.

She walks away from his door because there is no other option.

…

...

When Raven rips the bedsheets off at an ungodly hour in the morning, Starfire figures she’s finally found the end to her patience. The goal is to feign illness, never minding her sheer inability to lie and the fact that Raven is the team’s empath. But Starfire is desperate. She fears she’s been desperate for quite some time.

Starfire buries her face in her pillow, refusing to look Raven in the eye, and muffles out weakly, “Perhaps it is not the best of days for meditation, Raven.”

“I’m prepared to argue with you on that.”

“I am feeling most unwell.

“A ten-minute thing then.”

 _Please_ , Starfire wants to say, because she knows Raven can’t be tricked and that it really is just a matter of begging. _Please, Raven, let me lie to you with dignity._

A bit of silence stretches for a good long while before Starfire feels the shift of her bed and the warmth of Raven’s body against her legs, and when she looks over her shoulders, she sees Raven sitting cross-legged beside her in her usual meditative ways. She doesn’t even open her eyes. “Don’t mind me, Star.”

Patience is not a virtue with Raven. It is a weapon.

Eventually, Starfire props herself up in some measly gesture of cooperation, and Raven, sticking to her classics, doesn’t bother with preludes.

“Azarath…”

When it is over, Raven congratulates her on a job well done ( _“You do not have to patronize me, friend”)_ before they hear Cyborg’s voice from the Common Room calling for breakfast, and Raven looks back at Starfire with that same _something_ in her eye she still can’t comprehend. “Star, please remember this for me, okay? Remember that none of it will end if you’re too afraid to begin.”

Starfire nods all the same. But at the table, when Cyborg pours orange juice into glasses for her to pass around, she pushes and pulls the sentence around in her brain like the tides of the ocean, wondering what in X’hal’s name Raven is trying to say to her. 

Robin is the last one to be coaxed out of his room, adjusting his mask back on as he appears from the hall, visibly groggy from patrolling hours he keeps insisting on taking. His hair is mussed and ungelled in a way that throws Starfire out of sorts, because she’s always preferred to see Robin in the early mornings before he styled himself into spikes, back when it was the order of things to rake her fingers through his hair and accept his kisses dropped on her shoulder and his arms around her waist like a warm band and—

She is a storm with skin, violently whipped apart, as he takes his usual seat next to her. She doesn’t know why this is happening. All she knows for certain is that there’s been a fire burning inside Starfire all her life, and she feels it on the verge of being extinguished completely. 

* * *

**First Look into Chapter 5:**

_The memory comes back to her as if seeking revenge, like that Quentin Tarantino movie Beast Boy had insisted they watch after the team’s discovery of Starfire’s keen affinity for gore, the one with the blonde woman in a yellow track suit relentless and vicious and calculating and that is just the funny thing about memory. The way it tricks Starfire into believing she’s forgotten these moments, and when she’s raking her brain for a bit of information that might make sense of something else, it finds her with zero rational timing, reading off Quentin’s script in Uma Thurman’s smooth alto voice:_ You and I have unfinished business.


	5. Chapter 5

...

...

_Choose a trajectory in life, Robin, and if you decide it’s to be far away from me then start now, because I can barely take the suspense._

...

...

It is like whiplash, the incessant change between a Robin who cares too much and a Robin who doesn’t care at all. 

Starfire is tired, she thinks, as she’s instructing a promising mentee on the basics of flight-based agility. She notices how Serena -- a twelve year old with the recent gift of flight -- looks at her with utmost reverence. It guts the princess to her core; she’s guilty to no end. Serena deserves a mentor who can focus keenly on her student, not one busy wallowing in heartbreak at every moment of the day.

And it’s as if Xhal is amused, because the door to the roof opens and Robin gives a nod as he makes his way forward. Starfire greets him as levelly as she can. She doesn’t dare wonder if the feeling she is wrestling with herself is excitement. Robin stands next to her and looks up, blocking the sun from his eyes with his hands.

Twenty feet above them, Serena tumbles awkwardly in the air and dashes in the opposite direction. It is fast, but sloppy, and Starfire shakes her head with disapproval.

“Tuck in your knees, Serena,” Starfire critiques, and it escapes with a tone much harsher than she intends. The girl struggles to reorient herself and tries the drill again. 

Starfire can feel Robin’s sideways stare bare down on her. 

“Feeling okay?”

Starfire doesn’t want to know what she is feeling. She knows she doesn’t like the tone of his voice. It’s filled with too much compassion.

When Serena lands back on the rooftop in front of them, her hair tangled in a flaxen-colored bird's nest from the incessant twirling, her face shows utter frustration.

“The turn should be tighter, Serena, and orientation is key. You would have missed charging at your target if he were right behind you.” 

The intern’s face crumbles discontentedly, and this is when Starfire feels a new level of not being good enough. She’s racing through the thoughts in her head. When did she become so poor at speaking to children? Starfire feels like she is shutting down.

“You ever watch the Olympics?” Robin asks. 

His tone is light and it cuts through the tension so suddenly that both girls turn and stare.

“Which sport are you thinking of?” Serena finally asks, her response laced in curiosity.

“Swimming?”

“Yeah. Like, religiously.”

“Who’s your favorite female swimmer?”

“Alice Medina.”

Robin smirks and points to himself. “Hana Kitajima. The _legs_.”

The twelve-year-old is beaming and Starfire is watching as a bond between two earthlings is being formed.

“You know the way they change direction when they get to the end of the pool? They tuck, roll, and when their feet touch the side, they shoot to the other direction. Pretend you’re Alice Medina in the pool when you try again.”

“Or Hana Kitajima,” the girl teases. It catches Robin off guard and he’s laughing. 

“You see Starfire fly yet?”

Serena shakes her head.

“All grace and precision. It’s a confidence booster.”

Starfire is skeptical and looks at him with distrust. “A confidence booster for what?”

Robin’s expression is as if she has asked such a senseless question. “For everything.” 

Serena is looking up at Starfire with trepidation. “Would… would you be able to show me?”

Robin tosses Starfire his Titan communicator, ignoring the fact she has not agreed to the request yet: it’s an order from her team leader. Like all their communicators, Robin’s is eye-catching and expensive enough to make a point, and has the perfect heft for the drill he is thinking of. 

The source of Tamaranean flight is joy. With a deep breath, Starfire collects herself and digs through the myriad of feelings tangled inside her to harness that particular emotion. (For some reason, it’s much more difficult than normal.)

Suddenly, she’s off. 

Below her, the two figures are craning their necks to watch her in anticipation. Starfire, ignoring the smile on Robin’s face, extends her hand and lets go of Robin’s communicator.

_Flight is more than just freedom, young one,_ Galfore had told her many times before. 

_It is authority._

Up in the air, the orientation of the universe is Starfire’s to manipulate and she _revels_ in it. Starfire darts towards the horizon, tearing through the space of the world, and somersaults perfectly. In the opposite direction, she knifes through the air yet again, a few degrees lower than her initial trajectory.

It is sharp and lightning quick, and when Starfire’s feet hit the ground, she walks towards Serena and places Robin’s communicator in her hand, perfectly intact. Serena is squealing.

“Soooo clean,” Robin tells Serena as she’s jumping up and down, consumed by pure disbelief. 

...

...  
  


Later in the week, a vase of sunflowers are sent to the tower. A message from Serena comes attached. At the end of an endearing run-on sentence about gratitude and pride, the last sentence harpoons into Starfire and for the life of her she can’t get the pain out all night.

_He said they’re your favorite!_

Later, in the stillness of her own room, it is the first time in a long time that Starfire contemplates leaving the Titans for good.

....

...  
  


Patience is little these days for Starfire. So when she pries one eye open amidst meditation and sees a cross-legged and levitating Raven staring back at her, she can’t take it. 

"Friend Raven? Am I looking sickly today?"

"No."

"Am I suffering the Day of Bad Hair?"

"You look lovely today, Starfire."

"Then what is it that you're doing?"

“You didn’t talk to Robin, did you? You’re a Tamaranean, Star. Holding back your feelings this long is unhealthy…”

Starfire is grateful for such a phenomenal meditation teacher like Raven; for tuning her out has become deceptively easy.

…

...

They’ve done this a thousand times, so Starfire and Robin go all in without a thought. 

Robin takes off from the edges of the building, as the heat-seeking missile whizzes towards his back. Starfire, with the ability to fly faster than Robin can fall, swoops down to the sidewalk, where she waits to swipe Robin away at the very last second. The missile can’t change direction that quickly, and its intended fate is to meet the Jump City concrete between Market Street and Valencia Boulevard, courtesy of the Teen Titans.

But when Robin makes it two-thirds of the way down, Starfire suddenly feels the world shift into slow motion. Because when she kicks off from the pavement, she finds that she cannot fly.

“Starfire, man position.”

“ _X’hal,”_ Starfire curses.

She can’t get it together, and Robin is about to follow his mother and father into the ground.

“Star?”

That tone of voice. Not one of anger, or fear, or betrayal. But concern. She can’t even wrap her head around the idea.

At the very last second—too close even by Robin’s standards—she throws a starbolt that meets Robin perpendicularly, and it pushes him out of the way for just a moment. A black claw materializes to catch Robin like a pitcher’s mitt, and when the smoke and dust settle, there’s nothing left of the missile save for the glittery grit scattered on the concrete.

It’s the joy from knowing she hasn’t killed the leader of her team alone that gets her off the ground. She flies to the other side of the debris, where Raven is gently trying to push Robin back onto his feet with the claw. “Careful,” Raven says. “You might faint.”

“I don’t faint,” says Robin, laughing a bit hysterically. And then he faints into the Tamaranean’s arms.

…

...

“What was that, Star?” He asks later. They're back at the tower, where sits on the infirmary bed, biting on the metaphorical bullet as Starfire applies salve on the burns at his ribs from her starbolt. The redness melds with the purple spots where he’s been bruised. It looks like a little nebula on his skin.

Starfire finishes the task before she answers, pulling the ends of Robin’s undershirt over his stomach and retreating to the sink at the back to wash her hands.

  
  
“Nothing.” 

Robin laughs. Humorlessly, but not bitterly. And she _hates_ that. She hates that he’s not mad at her. 

“Star, it is very cool to sound cryptic like that, and all. But as leader I can’t really accept ‘nothing’ for an answer.” 

She presses her palm to her temple. “I’ve… my mind has been murky as of late. And I am not sure what it is,” she lies. 

Robin is cut from the same cloth as Raven, when it comes to levels of perception. She doesn’t ever try to lie to him unless she’s desperate. And she is. 

He studies her carefully from across the room. “Maybe you just need to take a break from the gig for a week or two.”

  
“That is not what I need-”

  
“Well, I’m not asking.” Robin slides off from the bed and grabs his cape draped over the computer monitor. “There’s no harm in a little time off. We'll see what happens and figure things out from there. Together, like always.” 

The memory comes back to her as if seeking revenge, like that Quentin Tarantino movie Beast Boy had insisted they watch after the team’s discovery of Starfire’s keen affinity for gore, the one with the blonde woman in a yellow track suit relentless and vicious and calculating and that is just the funny thing about memory. The way it tricks Starfire into believing she’s forgotten these moments, and when she’s raking her brain for a bit of information that might make sense of something else, it finds her with zero rational timing, reading off Quentin’s script in Uma Thurman’s smooth alto voice: _You and I have unfinished business._

It's the memory where Starfire slips her fingers under the edges of his domino mask, praying to the Goddess X'hal that he won't stop her. Miraculously, he doesn't. He just gathers her to him, and they both go down onto the pile of unfolded laundry scattered on the couch. 

"Together," she repeats, and maybe he _does_ catch the cynicism in her tone, but she doesn't inquire about it.

...

...

She’s in the gym now, spotting the last of Cyborg’s set of chest presses while Robin teaches Raven how to crescent kick at the other side of the room. Beast Boy hangs upside-down between both groups, with the backs of his knees over the gym beams, eating a granola bar. 

“You’re gonna make yourself sick,” Raven reports dryly from where she’s standing on the mat. Beast Boy heeds to his girlfriend's warning by transforming into a sloth. 

“I don’t get it,” Robin says. 

“Sloths' stomachs are flipped so that they can eat upside-down."

“Ah.”

Cyborg levels the bar back onto their handles and sits up from the bench. “Oh man, I’m feeling good today! You ready to teach me a lesson, Little Miss Muscle?"

Starfire smiles, gathering her hair up into a loose ponytail and trading places with her spotter. Cyborg clips the extra weights for her as she lays back. She grabs with both hands at the bar above her.

"Whatcha waitin' for, Star?"

The alarms of the tower sound off and interrupt Cyborg. Robin pulls Raven up, and is the first one at the exit. "Titans, move out. Star, like we've discuss. We'll see you soon."

The Titans clear the training room, except for the alien, who sits back up and stares at the weights Cyborg had set for her: her standard warmup number. Starfire's lips press together in contemplation, before getting on her feet to remove some of the discs.

It is truly odd. She wonders why she couldn't bench that.

...

...

* * *

**First Look into Chapter 6:**

_Robin suggests it, and everything within her begs her to answer him with a cold, crisp_ no _. But Starfire is an idiot, because there’s a beast inside her she’s listening to. A little monster called hope that pushes through everything clever and wise and agrees to Robin’s suggestion of moving the dinner up to the roof._


End file.
